The wolf

It's a big shadow, black as the darkest ink. Empty, hollow. Not male, not female. A big wolf, motherly embracing me, but as false as a snake.
I've always felt a mysterious attraction towards wolves, but this one is different.
It's the only thing I have left since it replaced the little demons.
Since I got fired from my job with the children only two weeks after I lost Tybo, the wolf didn't leave me. Not a second.
The little demons got scared away when they told me "it's not because I'm not good with the children, in fact, they seem to melt when they see my love for them, but because of "company" reasons".
They got scared away by the wolf who took their place.
It lies with me in my bed, feeding off of my sorrow while it puts it's arm around me. Comforting, but cold as ice.
I feel its hand like paw stroking my hair, slowly, careful, but in power.
I did not see this coming. My high need of giving love was fulfilled by him and the children. And for now those children were my rescue. Now that I have nothing to hold on to, I fall into the wolfs darkness.
It accompanies me on my countless lonely walks and is constantly tempting me to lose myself in social media. It takes my hand, keeps telling me its oke, and stabs me in my back, in the same wound, each and every time.
It keeps me awake at night, forcing dark thoughts in my heavy head.
It keeps me from enjoying food, photographing and even dreaming at night. I stop fighting and I drown. I try to cry but the tears are dried up.
I have none left. After days, the hand of the wolf like creature touches my face and my soul gets flooded with emotions. I break down and I shout.
I am not prepared for the sorrow that is yet to come. I feel weak and vulnerable. I am naked to the soul, and I let it be.  I don't have the courage to fight and instead I hug the wolf as tight as I can.
I want to feel safe again, loved.
I am desperate for touch and love and the wolf knows it, uses it.
I don't want to see people, and when I have to, I beg them for hugs in my mind.

-

It is now a few days later and I realize that for the first time in my life when I did not know a way out, my wild and free imagination raised from her sleep again, very slowly and carefully, after a way to long and helpless time. I managed to turn the pain into a spirit. A wolf. An evil but protecting wolf.
I am now a child, sheltered by the darkest darkness.
I say nothing and I let it all come to me. And when I say something, it is the wolf speaking. It's self protecting, defensive, angry, hurt, sad.
I am angry at myself for not taking proper care of my body and soul.
I am sad because right now I don't want to see the beauty of the world. Even when I know it's there.
The gratitude for all what I have is still great, but it became black by the wolfs touch.
It's poisoning me and now that I looked into its eyes I have to find a way to fight it.